Saturday, August 30, 2014

Wanted: Wild Thing by Jessica Sims (spotlight and excerpt)


Wanted: Wild Thing by Jessica Sims


The final book in a romance series set in a “fun, sexy world” (USA TODAY), where paranormals seek love through a dating service called Midnight Liaisons.

Ryder is hiding a dark secret from her coworkers at Midnight Liaisons. Every time she’s sexually attracted to a man, her dragon side breaks through. Not exactly man-bait! But she needs to lose her virginity before her twenty-fifth birthday, or she’ll become a dragon forever.

Her solution? Big, hunky Hugh, the appointed guardian of her chastity. He’s clearly hot for her, but he has powerful reasons to resist Ryder. Can temptation—and love—possibly find a way?


(can also be read on the Simon and Schuster site at this link)

Wanted: Wild Thing 
Chapter One

As we pulled up in front of my house, my date, Jordan, parked the car and glanced over at me. “I had a nice time tonight, Ryder.”

I gave him my cheeriest smile. “It was a lot of fun. Thanks for asking me out.”

He grinned back, handsome in a cocky, confident sort of way that I found appealing. After a moment, he reached out to touch my blond hair. “You’re really sexy, you know.”

I shied away, narrowly avoiding his touch with a laugh. “I’m a lot of things, Jordan, but sexy isn’t one of them.” And I batted his hand away with my pink Hello Kitty purse, which acted as both shield and proof that I wasn’t anyone’s idea of sexy. I was cute.

Cute like puppies and kittens and pink lipstick with glitter in it (which I was currently wearing). My hair was in two tight blond pigtails high on my head, and I was wearing a bright pink A-line dress with a Peter Pan collar, yellow stockings, and matching pink Mary Janes that looked like something Baby Spice would wear. When my date had seen me tonight, he’d commented that I looked like I was dressed up for Easter. I wasn’t. I was dressed up for Tuesday. I just liked bright, happy things and loved to wear them.

You know the saying “Fake it until you make it”? I lived that every day of my life. On my date I was nervous as heck, but you’d never know it from the way I giggled and flirted and chattered nonstop. I was in Ryder On mode. When Ryder was on, I was an endlessly effervescent personality. When I was Ryder Off? Well, I didn’t show the world Ryder Off.

No one got to see Ryder Off but me. It was best for everyone involved.

Jordan stroked a finger down my arm in a flirty move and I shuddered, thankful that I’d worn long sleeves. I held my breath, waiting for something bad to happen, but nothing did. The nervous knot in my stomach eased a little. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you all night,” he said in a seductive voice, sliding a bit closer to me.

I giggled inanely again, inching away. I knew where this was going, and I was terrified. My palms were sweating profusely, and my forehead broke out in an anxious sweat. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to kiss Jordan; he was handsome and funny and attentive. I wanted to kiss him more than anything. Heck, I wanted to drag him inside and introduce him to my bed.

But that wasn’t going to happen. I knew that deep in my bones.

Still, I was on this date because I was an eternal optimist. I had to hope—or I had nothing.

“Ryder,” he said softly, sliding even closer to me.

I pressed up against the car window to put as much distance between us as possible. “Jordan, I really like you, but I don’t know that we can take this further than friendship.” He gave me a surprised look. “If you like me, why do you say that?”

“It’s . . . complicated.” Extremely complicated, in ways he couldn’t possibly imagine.

“I like you enough to work with complicated,” he said in a smooth voice, reaching out to touch my hair again.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting . . . but nothing happened, and I relaxed. Maybe . . . maybe this time it’d be different?

Hope rising, I didn’t flinch away when he scooted so close that I felt his warm breath on my skin and smelled his scent. Fresh. Clean. Human. A quiver of pleasure shot through me at being so very near an attractive man.

Jordan gently brushed the backs of his fingers over my cheek. I felt a tingle, but it was muted, and I smiled at that. He took my smile for encouragement, and the next thing I knew, his lips were pressing on mine.

Shock flickered through me, quickly followed by a burst of pleasure when his tongue darted into my open mouth. A man was kissing me. Oh, wow! It was even better than I’d expected. I made a small noise of pleasure, closing my eyes and sinking into the feeling.

Then my cheek rippled. Not in a pleasant, shivery way; more like the sensation of something coming alive and trying to escape. Of skin trying to pull away from bone.

My eyes flew open and I pushed at Jordan’s chest. “No.” My good luck had just run out. Jordan wasn’t The One.

His eyes remained closed, his mouth seeking mine as if my protests would be swallowed by another kiss. If I’d been any other woman, they might have been.

But I wasn’t any other woman. One could argue I wasn’t even human.

An awful prickling sensation crept through my skin, like a thousand needles. My feet cramped painfully and I felt the press of claws inside my shoes. I groaned, pain flickering all over my body, and I felt my skin shift and creep again. Now my bones ached; I had only seconds before they’d pop and crack with the onset of my transformation.

And Jordan was going to see it all if I didn’t do something fast.

I pushed frantically at his chest again, breaking away just as fangs cut through my gums and I tasted blood. I fumbled for the car door, tumbling out backward and falling onto the driveway.

“Ryder!” I heard his car door open and his gasp when he saw me sprawled on the concrete. “Oh, my God, are you okay?”

I jumped to my feet and ran for my condo. Thank God I was on the first floor. I ran down the hall, heading for my door and safety. My forehead throbbed, hard and bony protrusions growing under
my skin as I fumbled for my key with claw-tipped fingers. My legs were cramping hard, and the bulges protruding from my back would soon rip through my cute pink dress.

With shaking hands, I managed to unlock the door. I slipped inside and locked it, then leaned back against the thick, heavy wood, relieved.


Leathery wings suddenly burst from my back with a wet snapping noise, and I groaned in pain as my loose, swingy dress became chokingly tight. I clawed at the zipper in the back, then gave up and
shredded the fabric with my thick, curved talons until it pooled at my feet. My shoes were the next to go, wrecked by the transformation, and I pressed my hands to my awful face and slid down the door until my tail and ass hit the floor.

Damn it. For a brief, shining moment, I’d really thought that Jordan was The One. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even close.

I was unsurprised when he knocked at my front door a moment later. “Ryder,” he bellowed, his concern evident. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“No means no,” I yelled back, hoping he wouldn’t notice the growly rasp in my voice now. “Don’t call me again.”

“Open up so we can talk about this.”

“Go away.” I meant it, too. Jordan was nice, handsome—and completely and totally useless to me. Just like every other human man out there, his touch triggered my curse.

The monster under my skin had something to do with sexuality. I could flirt harmlessly all day or hug a female friend. Shake hands. No problem. But the moment a man’s hand caressed me with sexual intention? Out came the scaly fanged beast. I ran a finger over the thick fangs now protruding from my gums over my canines. Those always hurt the worst and were the last to disappear.

“Please, Ryder,” Jordan said, his voice softer. “Can’t we talk through this? I really like you.”

“You’re not who I thought you were,” I yelled back. Oh, the irony of those words. “Go away before I call the cops.”

There was a long moment of silence, then he slammed a fist on the door. “Fuck you, cock tease.” I heard him stomp down my sidewalk back to his car. A moment later, it screeched out of my driveway and down the street.

Well, now. It was a good thing Jordan wasn’t my True Love, because it seemed like he was hiding a douchey side. Not a surprise. We all had our hidden sides.

Mine just happened to be scarier than most: I was a changeling.

At least that’s what the old fortune-teller had told me. I’d had my first experience with my monster shortly after getting my first period. I was fourteen, and I’d made out with a guy on the docks at
summer camp. He’d blushed and gotten a boner; I’d grown scales and a tail. My date had chalked up his horrific monster visions to some bad mushrooms. Me? I’d been terrified, so I’d done what any logical fourteen-year-old would have done—I’d stolen my mother’s wallet and taken a bus across town to consult a fortune-teller and get some answers.

It turned out that was the best thing for me. The moment I’d met the tall, willowy fortune-teller, I’d known she was different from other humans. She’d had a soft radiance that I hadn’t been able to identify then. I now knew what it meant—she’d had fae blood.

The fortune-teller told me as much a few minutes into our conversation. She wasn’t entirely human, her fae ancestry coming from her greatgrandmother. Her great-grandmother had schooled her in the occult arts, teaching her everything she’d needed to know about the supernatural. Greatgrandma had married a satyr, she’d told me, and I’d scoffed. The woman was clearly nuts.

Now, ten years later, I worked at a dating agency for the supernatural and had set up more than one lonely satyr on a date. Life was funny that way.

Anyway, the fortune-teller had had all the answers. She’d told me I was a changeling. That back in the days when the fae folk mingled more openly with humans, the fae would steal a human child and
leave a changeling in its place for the parents to raise.

I’d heard the fairy tales, but I’d always thought that changelings were scary, legendary things. I’d been a cute blond teenager who’d happened to look thoroughly human until someone touched me.

The fortune-teller had explained that, too: my natural guard was down in those moments, and the “glamour” that had been cast on me faded. By the time I hit twenty-five, if I remained a virgin, the glamour that made me look human would be unable to overcome my beast side, and I’d be a monster forever.

At fourteen years old, I’d been shattered. Not only were my parents not my real parents but I was also a monster of some kind and would be cursed forever if I didn’t beat the deadline?

The fortune-teller had patted my hand and given me a ray of hope. According to her great-grandmother, every changeling had a perfect match in the world. He’d be The One for me, my True Love. If I found that man, I’d be able to touch him without triggering my monsterlike changeling side. Then I could break the curse, securing the glamour so I remained human, not scaly-clawed bony gargoyle-ish. I couldn’t even say what my monster form was; it just seemed like a mix of everything hideous.

So I had to find my perfect mate. And like the fairy tale where the girl kissed a lot of frogs? I had to touch a lot of men. I flirted freely, just a happy, cheerful, young woman. When I got the nerve up, I’d touch a guy. Just to see.

It triggered my monster every time. I’d become a master at escaping before people noticed. I’d feign food poisoning and hide in a bathroom until my creature side faded. I’d bail on a date through the back door—I did that a lot—and transform in the dark parking lot, where no one could see me. My changeling side never lasted long. Already, I could feel my fangs throbbing, a sign that they were about to slide back into my gums. I extended a hand, watching the hint of scales on my skin disappear, my curved, clawed fingers returning to their regular length, my pink-tipped manicure still flawless.

This guy hadn’t been The One, but that didn’t mean the right guy wasn’t out there. I’d keep looking for the answer to my problem, and I’d find it. I wasn’t about to let a little monster side slow me down.

The fact that my twenty-fifth birthday was less than a month away? I didn’t dwell on that.

I worked at a dating agency for the supernatural, after all. Midnight Liaisons catered to vampires, shifters, monsters, and everything else that went bump in the night and wanted a mate. If there was a perfect, magical man who would break my curse, and if he was out there for me, I’d be able to find him through connections at work.

I just had to keep on kissing my frogs until then.

Other books in the series (not in order!) which are also on my TBR mountain:


I also have discovered that there is a free e-book by this author available at the time of this post: (click on cover below for link)

Friday, August 29, 2014

The Hook Up by Kristen Callihan (spotlight, excerpt and GIVEAWAY)


The Hook Up

by Kristen Callihan
Release Date: September 8, 2014
Genre: New Adult


The rules: no kissing on the mouth, no staying the night, no telling anyone, and above all… No falling in love

Anna Jones just wants to finish college and figure out her life. Falling for star quarterback Drew Baylor is certainly not on her to do list. Confident and charming, he lives in the limelight and is way too gorgeous for his own good. If only she could ignore his heated stares and stop thinking about doing hot and dirty things with him. Easy right?

Too bad he’s committed to making her break every rule…

Football has been good to Drew. It’s given him recognition, two National Championships, and the Heisman. But what he really craves is sexy yet prickly Anna Jones. Her cutting humor and blatant disregard for his fame turns him on like nothing else. But there’s one problem: she's shut him down. Completely.

That is until a chance encounter leads to the hottest sex of their lives, along with the possibility of something great. Unfortunately, Anna wants it to remain a hook up. Now it’s up to Drew to tempt her with more: more sex, more satisfaction, more time with him. Until she’s truly hooked. It's a good thing Drew knows all about winning.

All’s fair in love and football…Game on


My mother once told me that the most important moment in my life wouldn’t be when I won the National Championship or even the Super Bowl. It would be when I fell in love.

Life, she insisted, is how you live it and who you live it with, not what you do to make a living. Given that she told me this when I was sixteen, I basically rolled my eyes and worked on practicing my pass fakes.

But my mother was insistent.

“You’ll see, Drew. One day, love will creep up and smack you upside the head. Then you’ll understand.”

My mom, it turns out, was wrong in one regard. Love, when it came for me, did not creep. No, it walked up to me, bold as you please, you know, just in case I wasn’t paying attention. It did, however, slap me upside my head.

And while I’d be happy to tell my mom that she was right about that, she’s dead. A fact that hurts even more now that I’ve been struck down. More like shot down. Cut off at the knees. Totally fucked. Whatever you want to call this disaster. Because the object of my affection hates me.

I am man enough to acknowledge that the cluster fuck that is my current love life is entirely my fault. I wasn’t prepared for Anna Jones.

I still cringe at the memory of when I first laid eyes on her at the beginning of the semester. Being late for class, I’d rushed to a seat in the back row, and was trying to remain unnoticed. I can’t go anywhere on campus without getting attention. And though it sounds like an awesome thing, it gets tiring.

When the roll call reached the back row, a soft voice, rich and thick as maple syrup, slid over me.

“Anna Jones.”

Just her name. That was all she’d said. It was like a hot finger stroking down my spine. My head snapped up. And there she was, so fucking pretty that I couldn’t think straight. I might as well have been sacked.

Breathless, my head ringing, I could only gape. I’m not going to say it was love at first sight. No, it was more like oh, hell-yes-please, I’ll have that. With a helping of right-the-fuck-now on the side.

Thinking maybe I was overtired and simply overreacting to something that wasn’t really there, I stared at Anna Jones and tried to make sense of my extreme reaction.

As if feeling my gaze, she’d turned, and fucking hell… Her eyes were wide, almost cat-like, with the corners tilting up just a bit. At first, those eyes appeared brown, but they were really bottle green. And so clear. And annoyed. She glared at me. I didn’t care. One word was playing a loop in my head: mine.

I don’t remember the rest of the class. I watched Anna Jones like a condemned man getting his last view of the setting sun. While she tried to ignore me. Admirably.

The second class ended I shot up, and so did she. We nearly collided in the middle of the aisle. And then it all fell to shit.

Pre-order Link


Author Biography

Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else she’d rather do. She is a three-time RITA nominee, and winner of two RT Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal, best book of Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012 by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.

Social Networking Links




a Rafflecopter giveaway

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Saving Sophie by Cate Beauman (spotlight, excerpt, comments form Cate and a GIVEAWAY)

I am delighted to have a visit from the prolific Cate Beauman, talking about her soon to be released book!


Cate Beauman is back with the seventh installment in her bestselling romantic suspense series, The Bodyguards of L.A. County.  Saving Sophie will be on sale September 4th through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and iTunes!

Saving Sophie On Sale September 4th!

When the only choice is to run…

Jewelry designer Sophie Burke has fled Maine for the anonymity of the big city. She’s starting over with a job she tolerates and a grungy motel room she calls home on the wrong side of town, but anything is better than the nightmare she left behind.

Stone McCabe is Ethan Cooke Security’s brooding bad boy more interested in keeping to himself than anything else—until the gorgeous blond with haunted violet eyes catches his attention late one rainy night.

Stone reluctantly gives Sophie a hand only to quickly realize that the shy beauty with the soft voice and pretty smile has something to hide. Tangled up in her secrets, Stone offers Sophie a solution that has the potential to free her from her problems once and for all—or jeopardize both of their lives. 

Read an excerpt from Saving Sophie:

Sophie glanced around one last time at the town she’d called home for more than twelve years as Dylan merged south on the onramp towards Brunswick, knowing she would never come back to the place where she and her mother had made their fresh start.

“Your train leaves at nine. We should make it in plenty of time.”

“I’ve never traveled by train.”

“Me neither.” Dylan moved into the right lane, letting faster traffic pass. “Have you decided where you’ll go?”

She shook her head, even though she’d thought of little else since she woke this morning, knowing today had to be the day. 

“Somewhere big. Somewhere where he can’t find me.” She swallowed. “He’ll look. He’ll never stop,” she said, staring into the side mirror, waiting for the black Mercedes to rush up behind them and force them to pull over. “You have to be careful.”

Dylan huffed out an amused laugh. “That bastard doesn’t scare me.”

She wished he didn’t scare her either. “Be careful anyway.”

“I will, but he’s a coward.”

“No more than me,” she murmured, glancing down at the hints of bruised skin peeking out from under her sleeves.

Dylan tossed her a look. “Don’t go there.”

She sat back fully in her seat, unable to take her eyes off the mirror until Dylan eventually exited the interstate and drove toward the center of town, stopping in front of the Amtrak station as the train pulled up.

“Looks like you won’t have to wait.” She set the emergency brake and searched through her purse. “Here’s my license.” She handed over the Maine ID and paper ticket she’d bought and printed when Sophie gave her the green light from her kiosk at the mall. “We don’t look all that different with your wig, so this should get you your next ticket in Boston.”

“Thank you.” Sophie leaned over and gave Dylan a big hug. “Thank you so much. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

“Don’t look back, Sophie.” Dylan eased away, squeezing her hand. “Get out of here and never look back. Here are the phone numbers for the Stowers house shelters in Baltimore and LA I told you about—just in case.” She handed over the March copy of Trendy magazine with papers sticking out from the edges.

“Thanks. Please don’t forget to put flowers on my mother’s grave.”

“I won’t.”

She nodded and hugged Dylan for the last time. “Bye.”

“Bye. Take care of yourself.”

“I will.” Sophie got out, sliding her backpack on her shoulder as she made her way to the bored-eyed man at the ticket kiosk.

“Ticket and ID, Ma’am.”

Sophie handed over both, holding her breath, waiting for her plan to fall apart.

“Safe trip.” He gave them back.

“Thank you,” she murmured, letting loose a shaky exhale as she turned and moved toward the train, wanting to run instead of walk. She boarded the first available car and stared out the window as she sat down, watching Dylan pull out of the lot in the rusty hatchback, already missing the only person she’d had a connection with. She bobbed her leg up and down, struggling to keep her fidgeting at bay. Minutes passed, feeling like hours, until finally the doors closed. The train jerked forward, moving toward Boston—the first stop on her journey to freedom.

Did you enjoy the excerpt?  You can read the first chapter on my website.

The Inspiration Behind Saving Sophie

Stone and Sophie are as opposite as can be—or so it seems—and that’s why telling their story was so much fun!  Readers met Stone in Justice For Abby.  He’s a gorgeous bad boy, more interested in taking care of himself than worrying about anyone else.  Stone’s a hard-ass.  There’s no other way to say it, but everyone has an achilles’ heel.  That’s what drew me to Ethan Cooke Security’s latest bodyguard.  I kept asking myself what type of woman had the power to bring a man like Stone McCabe to his knees.  Enter Sophie Burke, a shy jewelry designer dealing with lots of trouble, and you just might have your answer.

I hope you enjoy Sophie and Stone as much as I enjoyed writing them!

~ Cate

The Unofficial Saving Sophie Soundtrack

Here are a few of the songs that I had on “repeat” while I created Stone and Sophie’s story!  You can listen to them on my website.

The soundtrack, of sorts, for Saving Sophie:
·         Grey Street by Dave Matthews
·         Sleep by Plumb
·         Come To Me by The Goo Goo Dolls
·         All I Want by Staind
·         I’d Come For You by Nickelback
·         Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran
·         In My Veins by Andrew Belle
·         Only You by Matthew Perryman Jones
·         Feels Like Home by Chantal Kreviazuk

About the author:

Cate currently lives in North Carolina with her husband, their two boys, and St. Bernards, Bear and Jack. She is the author of the best selling romantic suspense series, The Bodyguards of L.A. County.  Before her career as an author, Cate worked in special education for 12 years.

“I’m a pretty lucky girl; one day I woke up and my entire life changed. I saw the light, so to speak, and decided I was going to be a writer. Now, four years later, I’m currently working on my eighth novel, Reagan’s Redemption, which I plan to release in early spring of 2015.  I’m very grateful for the support and success I’ve had.”  - Cate

E-Book Giveaway Contest

Contact Cate

Social links:


And don't forget that Cate is holding a jewelry giveaway on her website at this link

Monday, August 25, 2014

Barbarian's Concubine by Lisa Cach and Tempt Me Eternally by Gena Showalter (ADULT titles) (Excerpts and GIVEAWAY)

These are ADULT titles


After Clovis becomes king of his tribe of Salian Franks he reunites with Nimia. He soon realizes how useful her Phannic gifts will be, and with her help, plots to take down Soissons. She is in love with Clovis, however, and while he says he loves her, too... there is a calculating coldness in his eyes sometimes that makes her wonder if he knows what love is.

Sygarius, meanwhile, is outraged that Nimia fled, and he too has realized that she has useful powers. He wants her back. And he is prepared to fight for what’s his.

Terix heaved a put-upon sigh. We’d had this same argument a hundred times over the past month and a half as we fled from Sygarius and toward . . . toward . . . Well, that was the issue. Toward what? The only answer that had any meaning—to me, at least—was to find my lost people, the Phanne. And the only clue I had to finding them was the story that a tattooed man named Maerlin had once met my onetime lover (and only one time, gods rot his betraying heart), the Frankish prince Clovis, on the shore of the channel. Maerlin had told Clovis that he was of the Phanne and going to Britannia, and that Clovis must remember this fact, for someday it would give him what he sought.
An annoyingly mysterious statement, that.

“He’ll want more from you once we’re on his boat. You’ll have to give it to him, too,” Terix tried.

I hoped so.

Hades, what had come over me? This was not the Nimia I was familiar with, for most of her life untouchable and untouched, the consecrated sexual-toy-to-be of Sygarius.

Or maybe I was the same Nimia: I had spent those untouched years lusting for the feel of another’s hand on my skin. Perhaps it should be no surprise to anyone, least of all myself, that once my virginity was gone I would seek to gorge myself on that which I had so long been denied.

Jax was the first attractive opportunity to do so. How convenient for me that we needed his help.

“Better a cock rubber . . .” I said, reviving an old joke between us.

“Than a pot scrubber,” Terix answered, but then made a face. 

“That was only funny when we were slaves with no choice.”

“There’s never a choice for the likes of us. Not here in Gaul, anyway, with Sygarius hunting us. We have to get beyond his reach.”

Terix threw up his hands. He knew I wasn’t going to be dissuaded. 

“It’s your cunny.”

“My cunny isn’t part of the deal, you know that.” At least, not yet it wasn’t. One look at my tattoos, and no matter how horny Jax was for me, he’d be a lot hornier for the ten-soldi reward. “It’s the only way, Terix.”

Terix turned his shoulder to me, and made grumbling comments to his cup of mead that I chose not to decipher.

I slid my gaze to Jax, and sent him my answer in a small smile and a nod.

Jax rose at once, leaving his friends to their dice and drink. He wove through the crowd, coming toward me with an easy, natural confidence, his arms relaxed, his narrow hips and sinewy frame moving without hurry, but with purpose. A sudden certainty came to me that a man who moved through a crowd like that, with no sign of either arrogance or caution, was a man who didn’t blink at killing anyone who got in his way.

A shiver ran down my spine and landed in my loins. I was a fool if I thought I was in control of this situation.

My cunny pulsed in response to the thought.

“All is agreed?” Jax asked when he reached me. His Latin had an accent I couldn’t place; I guessed that he’d not grown up amid Romans. How old he might be, I couldn’t say: deep crow’s-feet spread from his eyes, and grooves ran from the edge of his nose to the corners of his mouth, but a life on the water would do that to even a young man. His hair hung thick and dark brown, and his teeth flashed white in his tanned skin.

I nodded.

He took my elbow in a gentle grip and guided me from the tavern into the scorching heat of the day. The sun felt like flames on my skin. My stomach fluttered as I realized this was happening; I was going alone with Jax to the stables. I had agreed to suck his cock in exchange for his agreeing to take us on as paying passengers, and he was not a man who would let me change my mind.

Link continuing the excerpt to XOXOAfterDark



by Gena Showalter

 The huntress becomes the hunted in this sizzling paranormal romance from New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Gena Showalter, previously published as part of the Deep Kiss of Winter anthology with #1 New York Times bestselling author Kresley Cole, now available as a stand-alone ebook!

With only skin-to-skin contact, Aleaha Love can change her appearance, assuming any identity. As an AIR (Alien Investigation and Removal) agent, her newest mission is to capture a group of otherworldly warriors. So imagine her surprise when the hunter becomes the hunted, and she’s taken captive by dangerously seductive Breean, a golden-skinned, iron-willed commander, who threatens everything Aleaha stands for—and makes her want to be only herself, for the first time in her life.


They were coming.

Warriors unlike any other. Monsters of unimaginable power. Otherworlders. Fierce creatures with the ability to look inside your soul, glimpse your greatest fear, and present it to you with an unrepentant smile.
Should’ve stayed home, Aleaha Love thought. ’Cause we’re gonna get spanked. Hard. And not in a good way. Instead, she’d answered her cell and her captain’s call to action, and now found herself crouched in the middle of a gnarled forest, staring into a snow-laden clearing, moonlight shooting bright amber rays in every direction as flakes wafted in the breeze like fairy dust.

Though she wore white from head to toe, had a pyre-gun stretched forward, and was burrowed in a drift as cover, she felt exposed. Vulnerable. And yeah, damn cold.
What in the hell did I get myself into?

“Everyone in position?” a voice whispered from her headset.

A whisper, yeah, but it startled her. She managed to cut off a yelp, but couldn’t stop tremors from sweeping through her. Steady. 

She’d never hear the end of it if she accidentally fired her weapon before the fight had even begun.

“Premature weapon ejaculation,” they’d say with a chuckle, and she wouldn’t be able to deny it.

One by one, twenty teammates uttered their assent. They had wicked cool nicknames like Hawk Eye and Ghost. Her turn, she said, “Lollipop, in place.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dress her up and watch her play bad alien, delicious cop,” the boys had laughed before giving her the stupid moniker her first day on the job. “Naughty lawbreakers will want to taste her, not outrun her.”

That had been, what? Five weeks ago, she realized with a jolt. Oh, how life had changed since then. From hiding in the shadows, afraid of what she was, to working cases with New Chicago’s elite team of smart-asses, content with her somewhat pampered existence. A pampered existence she didn’t deserve and hadn’t earned, but whatever. No guilt for her. Really.

“Need someone to snuggle against, Lolli?” a quiet, amused male voice asked. Devyn, supposedly a king of some sort and a self-proclaimed collector of women. He wasn’t really a member of Alien Investigation and Removal but was a special contractor, as well as the man who’d once wired her gun to blow bubbles rather than fire at target practice.

Word on the street, he was more powerful than God and deadlier than the devil, though no one would tell her outright what he could do. He was an otherworlder, that much she knew. That, and most of AIR’s flunkies kept their distance from him. They feared him, which only heightened Aleaha’s need to keep her own secrets.

She, too, was different.

She didn’t know whether she was human or alien. Or both. She didn’t know whether there were others like her or not. She didn’t know who her parents were or why they’d abandoned her on the dirty streets of the Southern District—a.k.a Whore’s Corner—of New Chicago, and she didn’t care. Not anymore. All she knew was that she could assume anyone’s identity with only a touch. That person’s face became hers; their height became hers; their body became hers.

For years, she’d lived in fear of being found out, of being hunted and tortured for her unnatural ability, afraid that everyone who looked at her saw the truth and knew she wasn’t who she claimed to be. But she couldn’t drop the mask. As herself, she was wanted for theft, assault against a police officer, and more theft. And then maybe kinda sorta murder. Not that she was culpable. He’d deserved it.

She’d rather lose a limb than spend any more time in jail.

Her fear of discovery was waning, though, and she was settling comfortably into her newest life as Macy Briggs. Maybe one day I’ll even be worthy of it. Again, not that she felt guilty. Really.

But with Christmas only a few weeks away . . . ugh. Worst. Holiday. Ever. Her “friends” would bake Macy’s favorite foods, not Aleaha’s. They would give her gifts meant for Macy, and reminisce fondly about good ole days she knew nothing about, and she would have to smile through every minute of it. And yeah, okay. Fine. Then she would feel guilty.

“What, ignoring me?” Devyn said with another of those snarky laughs. “Wasn’t like I was going to ask to feel you up or anything. I mean, I was just gonna surprise you with my handsiness.”
God, she was on the job, yet she’d lost track of her thoughts. 

Mortifying. “Can you take nothing seriously?”

“Hello, have you met me? I take making out very seriously.”

All the men on the line snorted in their attempts to muffle their laughter. They might be wary of him, but they couldn’t help but enjoy his perverted sense of humor.

“Fuck you, Chuckles,” she said, trying not to reveal her amusement. Irreverent bastard.

“Excellent. We’re on the same page, because that’s exactly what I’m trying to do to you.”

Give herself to Devyn? Not in this lifetime, and not because he wasn’t attractive. If anything, he was too attractive. Hell, he was total screw-like-ananimal perfection. Tall, with dark hair, wide amber eyes, and skin that glittered like a jewel; there was no one else like him. There was a recipe for his smile, though: wicked desire dipped in acid, wrapped in steel and sprinkled with candy. The recipe for his laughter? Well, that was wicked desire tossed in the gutter, wrung out in a whorehouse, and slathered with scented body lotion. 

Women threw themselves at him constantly, and he ate it up like they were his own personal smorgasbord.

They probably were. Thank God she wasn’t in the market for a boyfriend. Or, rather, a lover, since that’s all someone as fickle as Devyn could ever amount to. Macy—the real Macy—had been dating a piece of scum Aleaha was still trying to lose and she didn’t have the time or patience to throw anyone else into the mix.

“Temper, temper,” Jaxon Tremain chided. He was one of two agents who hung out with the sexy otherworlder, and the resident smoother. There was something unnaturally calming about his presence, as if he could slink inside a person’s psyche and wash away her fears. “Would you kiss me with that mouth?”

“Funny,” she said dryly.

She could hear the others chortling and snorting with more surprised amusement. Someone said, “Soliciting kisses from women, Jaxon? Mishka will kill you for that.”

“If by kill you mean seduce, then yeah,” Jaxon replied. “You’re right.”

Mishka was Jaxon’s wife and a hired killer who possessed a robotic arm. Aleaha had only seen her once, but that had been enough to scare ten years off her life. Never had she seen eyes so cold or heard a voice so uncaring. Of course, the moment Mishka spied Jaxon, her entire demeanor had changed. So had Jaxon’s, for that matter. Usually he was as con- servative as a priest. One glance at Mishka, though, and he’d morphed into gutter man.

Aleaha had marveled at the change in him, a change she was witnessing once again. Empathetic as he was, perhaps he was veering onto the perverted track now to get her mind off the bloody massacre sure to begin. Apparently, though, she didn’t need help today. She couldn’t concentrate worth a damn. What was wrong with her?

“Well,” Devyn said, drawing the spotlight back to him. As always. 

“Be a good lollipop and answer the man. Will you kiss him or not?”

“I could give you a list of all the things I’ll never do to you with my mouth,” she muttered. “How ’bout that?”

Devyn laughed, and, yep. It was wicked desire. “She reminds me of Mia when she talks like that. Tell us, Lolli, is that list for everyone or just Jaxon?”

“All right, team,” Mia Snow herself interjected before Aleaha could reply. “Save it. You know I only want you to stun these men. Do not burn them. I repeat, do not burn them. An open wound will bleed and that will spread their infection. And believe me, I will kill every single one of you myself if that happens.”

There was a moment of frightening silence. Infection. What a delightful reminder. Not only were the warriors coming here vicious, there was a possibility that they were bringing the plague with them.

“Good,” Mia continued. “I’ve got your attention. Solar flare approaching in ten.” She was inside a van about a mile away, watching the action on a night- vision monitor with a handful of backup agents. “Nine.”

Aleaha tensed. A few months ago, a big case had busted wide open and AIR had learned that otherworlders were traveling to Earth through interworld wormholes that initiated with solar flares. Then, a few weeks after that, another case had come to light. Members of a race of aliens known as the Schön had descended, their bodies carriers of a virus that passed to humans through their blood and ejaculate. This virus turned men and women into cannibals. Their queen—or living host of this sickness—was on her way here, due to arrive in the near future.

Tonight, ten members of her horde were supposed to utilize one of those wormholes. Their purpose: to smooth the way for her. Which meant, destroying AIR.


Shit. The countdown. Despite the frigid temperatures, sweat beaded on Aleaha’s brow, dripping from the brim of the white cap she wore. Stay calm. You have to stay calm.


Though her résumé claimed she’d worked as a cop for more than two years, this was actually Aleaha’s first mission.

What seemed forever ago but had only been a few months, she’d stumbled upon the body of a woman who’d been raped and killed in a back alley—a woman she’d recognized as Miss New Chicago’s Finest in Uniform calendar girl, Macy Briggs.
She’d almost walked away. The higher the public profile, the more scrutiny she received. But . . .

Already tired of the adult-toy-store clerk identity she’d previously stolen, Aleaha had seized the chance to better herself, hiding the body and shifting so that she was an exact match to Macy’s appearance, thereby claiming the woman’s life as her own.

Only later had she learned that Macy had applied to AIR and been accepted. To back out would have looked suspicious and changing identities yet again hadn’t appealed. So she’d done it. She’d attended that first day, then the next. And the next. They’d watched her suspiciously, as if they knew the truth, but they had never accused her and she’d realized she was probably paranoid. 

Soon they’d even relaxed, accepting her as one of their own. Now, here she was, done with trials and on mission one.

“—was actually your warm-up,” Mia said, cutting into her thoughts. 

“Ten. Nine.”

Shit. She’d missed the end of the first countdown? She was practically begging to be killed tonight.

“Seven. Six.”

Oh, God. What if she did, in fact, die out here? What if she lost everything she’d worked so hard to gain? Her gun hand shook. You have to stay calm, damn it.

With bouts of extreme emotion, she shifted from one identity to another without any control. 

“Four. Remember, guns set to stun and only stun.”

Her pyre-gun was already dialed to the proper setting, so she curled her index finger around the trigger and swallowed the hard lump in her throat. Breathe in, breathe out. You do know how to fire a weapon, at least. A skill she’d learned from her only true friend, Bride McKells. A vampire, and her champion. They’d been separated more than a decade ago, chased apart by cops who’d caught them breaking into homes for food, and Aleaha hadn’t been able to find her since. She’d never stop looking, though.

Link continuing the excerpt to XOXO After Dark:


Please leave a valid e-address and a comment on which of these stories you prefer and you might have the chance to win a copy!

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Contests and giveaways

Please make sure you work back through the posts on my blog for a couple of weeks as there are plenty of giveaways...and some of the Pocket e-book posts will have multiple winners!  The Brought To His Knees post at this link not only features a fantastic bargain price but lots of great prizes.

Night Owl Romance's Summer Fun Booklovers Scavenger Hunt is ending soon!  And don't forget to check some of the other contests at this link

Cate Beauman has a giveaway at this link

There are also several fun blog tours...

Lucy Felthouse's Pack of Lies blog tour at this link

Lisabet Sarai's Ingredients of Bliss blog tour

The TRS End of Summer party starts 8/25/14 at this link

There are lots of other great contests out there, I just haven't had the time to wander as much as usual so feel free to share in the comments others that you have seen in your travels!

Friday, August 22, 2014

Silver Wolf Clan by Tera Shandley (GFT)

by Tera Shanley



What happens when monsters turn out to be real? One summer night while camping in the woods, Morgan Carter finds out in a big way. A tall mysterious stranger, Greyson Crawford, risks his life to try and save her sister from the vicious wolf attacking their camp. When he’s bitten and disappears into the night, Morgan can only assume the worst.

Greyson shows up a year later, and he’s a different animal altogether. His eye color shifts constantly and the rumble in his throat sounds more animal than human. She hasn’t any idea where he’s been all this time, but a good guess as to what he’s become.

Grey is determined not to let the darkness of his new existence affect Morgan and the little girl in her care. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Morgan but knows he should stay away and let her live a normal life. That’s easier said than done, though. A new danger pulls him from the shadows to keep her safe, and he’s no wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Can she accept what lurks just below his surface? More importantly, can she survive him?



Greyson’s muscles quivered under Morgan’s hand but it likely had nothing to do with the cool rain. He opened his eyes slowly and the brilliance of the golden color pooled there was almost too dazzling to look directly at. Like staring at the sun. No one would mistake those for human eyes.

If she’d had any doubt before about the brand of monster he’d become, those liquid amber eyes put them to rest. He pulled his hood back and the chin-length dark blond hair from her memory fell forward into his face. She moved a strand to the side. He’d lost weight in the past year. He hadn’t had an ounce to lose in the first place, but it looked as if he’d struggled to stay healthy. His eyebrows, just a shade darker than his hair, were furrowed but he let her drink him in. He was playing fair. For all she knew, he’d been watching her the entire year. It was her turn now.

His nose was straight and his jaw line masculine. From the brief moments she’d known him out in those woods, she’d seen how intoxicating he was. He’d been a fearless warrior bent on that murdering wolf’s destruction, no matter the cost. Here, in the dirty alley under the relentless clouds, with those glorious feral eyes and a snarl in his chest, Greyson Crawford was utterly consuming.

Softly, she said, “You’re beautiful.”

His shaky whisper tore at her. “I’m a monster.”

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Tera Shanley writes in sub-genres that stretch from Paranormal Romance, to Historic Western Romance, to Apocalyptic (zombie) Romance. The common theme? She loves love. A self-proclaimed bookworm, she was raised in small town Texas and could often be found decorating a table at the local library. She currently lives in Dallas with her husband and two young children and when she isn’t busy running around after her family, she’s writing a new story or devouring a good book. Any spare time is dedicated to chocolate licking, rifle slinging, friend hugging, and the great outdoors. For more information about Tera and her work, visit

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Thursday, August 21, 2014

Pack of Lies by Lucy Felthouse (ADULT title) Guest post, excerpt and GIVEAWAY

The Research (Part Two) for Pack of Lies (ADULT title)
by Lucy Felthouse 

(@cw1985) #werewolf #paranormal #erotic #romance

Hello and welcome to the fourth day of my blog tour for Pack of Lies, and thanks so much to my host for the day.

Wow, I can hardly believe that I did so much research for a book that it warrants more than one blog post. But this one did—it’s a 96,000 word thriller with historical elements, sex, romance and werewolves. And the werewolves, as the main characters, had to be paid very close attention to—for example, where would they change on the full moon?

The answer to this question explains why, last September, I found myself wearing a hard hat and clambering down into an old cave and mine system. Not by myself, I hasten to add, but with a very nice local gentleman, who generously gave up a few hours of his Sunday to take me and my other half down (who was also very generous with his time and patience as I dragged us off into the Peak District in the name of research!) into the cave system so I could see if it was feasible for two grown men to go down there and change into werewolves on a full moon.

Fortunately, after much banging of heads on low ceilings (thank goodness for the hard hats!) and crawling about in dark and narrow passages, I discovered it was indeed, feasible. Granted, it’s a fictional novel so it would have been okay to make it up, or stretch the truth, but I’m nothing if not a perfectionist. So imagine my relief when, having finally reached a cavern where I could stand up straight, I discovered that two large werewolves could indeed, prowl around in the darkness. Even better, the lack of space in the passages we’d entered through was such that, in werewolf form, they wouldn’t be able to get back out. Not until they’d changed back into human form. I can’t say why this is important without giving away some of the plot, so you’ll just have to read it and see!

Check out the photos on my Pinterest board

The book has been incredibly well received so far, with lots of four and five star reviews—so if you’re a paranormal romance fan, I hope you’ll check it out! Also, don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

Happy Reading,

Lucy x


Werewolf brothers Matthew and Isaac have lived in the peaceful village of Eyam all their lives. The villagers know what happens every full moon, and are happy to keep their secret. But their privacy comes at a cost—neither brother has taken a lover in almost four hundred years.

Then at the full moon, a sheep is slaughtered on Eyam Moor, by what could only be an animal. A large, vicious animal. Even the brothers’ staunchest supporters begin to have their doubts. Meanwhile Isaac is smitten by a handsome newcomer to the village, while a vivacious visitor is happy to offer Matthew her all.
As they indulge their lust, they must clear their names and convince their neighbours that they aren’t also letting their baser instincts out to play.

Inside Scoop:  This book contains sizzling scenes of both M/M and M/F sex.


As Matthew and Isaac Adams opened the front door to their house, the telephone started ringing. Matthew sighed. “Typical. No rest for the wicked. I’ll answer it, you go and get ready for work.”

Isaac nodded and headed off to do as his brother advised. Matthew, the older of the two, walked toward the ringing phone and snatched it off the hook. Then, remembering that the person on the other end of the line would have no idea what a rough night he’d just had, he made the effort to inject some politeness into his tone.

“Hello? Adams residence.” Isaac had told him time and time again that the last part about the residence was old-fashioned, that people didn’t say that anymore, but Matthew couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hello, Matthew? It’s Richard.” The village vicar’s voice, even though he’d only spoken four words, sounded strained, almost panicked. “You boys just get back?”

“Yeah, a moment ago. Why, what’s up?”

“I, uh… I got a call. A dead sheep has been found up on the moor. Not just dead. Mutilated. Like a wild animal attack.”

An unpleasant feeling wormed its way under Matthew’s skin and his stomach flipped. “Oh?” He paused, then figured he had nothing to gain by not saying the next words he wanted to. “You don’t think it was us?”

The vicar’s gasp was instant, one of genuine surprise. “Lord, no! Absolutely not. I just phoned to let you know and I was wondering if you’d come up there with me and take a look. You and Isaac are probably more qualified than anyone else in the village to tell what did this.”

“Isaac has to work, he just went to get ready. But yes, I’ll come up. I’ll let my brother know where I’m going, then I’ll be straight over. Are you at the rectory?”

“Yes. Okay, I’ll see you soon. Thanks, Matthew. Bye.”


Matthew hung up the phone with another sigh. The horrible feeling that had crept under his skin and taken over his gut seemed as if it was there to stay, and it was never a good sign. The vicar’s news was surprising, yes, but he also had an inkling that it was going to spell trouble, or at the very least inconvenience, for him and his brother.

Pulling in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his jangling nerves, Matthew walked upstairs and toward his brother’s bedroom. The door was closed. He knocked. “You decent?”

“Yeah,” Isaac replied, “close enough.”

Stepping into the room, Matthew looked at his brother. He was half-dressed, ready for his shift at the doctor’s surgery, where he was a general practitioner. “Sorry to interrupt, mate, but that was Richard on the phone. They’ve found a mutilated sheep up on the moor, and he’s asked me to go with him to check it out.”

Isaac paused with one arm pushed into his shirtsleeve. “He doesn’t think—”

Matthew cut him off. “No. He was quite adamant about that. He just thought we’d be able to help figure out what did it. I explained that you’ve got to go to work, though. I’m going to head across there now and go up with him.”

“I could phone in, let them know I’ll be late.”

Matthew held up his hand. “There’s no need, brother. Relax. Just go to work and help the sick people. I’ll let you know what—if anything—I find out.”

Opening his mouth, then closing it again, Isaac seemed to have thought better of whatever he was going to say. He continued to dress. “All right, I will. But make sure you let me know what happens. Send me a text or something, and I’ll phone you as soon as I have a gap in between patients.”

Matthew grimaced. He hated texting. Hated mobile phones, actually. Technology was one of the things he disliked most about modern-day life, though he realized it was a necessary evil. It solved as many problems for him and his brother as it created, so he dealt with it as best he could. Fortunately, Isaac had always had an affinity with computers and phones, so he tutored his older brother.

“Yeah, all right. I’d better go and find my phone first then, eh?”

Smirking at his brother’s rolled eyes, he left the room and headed for his own bedroom, where he thought he’d left the device the previous night, before he and Isaac had headed for the caves. Immediately spotting the mobile phone—which Isaac often made a point of telling him was akin to a brick—he grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket and made his way downstairs.

Retrieving his keys from the hook by the front door, he called up to his brother. “I’m going now, Isaac. I’ll see you after my shift at the pub. I’m working until closing time.”

“Okay. Don’t forget to keep me posted!”

“I won’t.” As if he could forget. The dead sheep was going to be a big thing, he just knew it. The vicar might not think he and his brother had anything to do with it, but some of the other villagers might. When there was no proof either way, just his and Isaac’s word, it was understandable, really. Since he and his brother changed into wolves every full moon, it was a natural conclusion to draw. Particularly since normal wolves had been extinct in England for over five hundred years.

Author Bio:
Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house. She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at:



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